The Story I Heard
by Finchlett
Summary: Orphaned at age 15 Bella now 18 lives under the spiteful rule of the Denali sisters. Abused and broken can a certain green-eyed art prodigy save her before she destroys herself or is it too late? Dark themes, Lemons and Mature content. There will be angst
1. Prologue

_**A/N Hey there everyone This is my first story here and I hope you enjoy it, would love reviews and feedback they are like fresh cookies. I must thank my wonderful beta: Linsey, you have no idea the shit she has had to put up with! Thank you baby for putting up with my erratic behavior and me; you are wonderful.**_

_**Disclaimer: SM owns all.**_

_**Enjoy. **_

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><p><em>Song for this chapter: 'Grapevine Fires' Death Cab For Cutie<strong><br>**_

**Prologue**

I have 52 scars on my body.

I remember counting them, though strangely, not the day nor the reason. I can't help thinking it had something to do with boredom, or perhaps it was due to the fascination I once held for the raised, ragged lines that still crisscross my body at different and seemingly random points.

It is strange, I know, that this is what I decide to recall as I feel myself falling to earth. It seems rather trivial but all I can think is the fact that when my body hits the ground with the resounding 'thud' that I know will undoubtedly precede my contact with the stained cement I will now have 53 scars. What an odd thing to think at a time like this.

I hold my breath, waiting for the blinding agony to blossom, it seems hours have passed before it does arrive. I'm almost tranquil as I lie in the purgatory between shock and pain. That thought, however, is quickly forgotten as the pain crashes into me with the force of a freight train. Within milliseconds, my body goes from limp to rigid as I fight with all the willpower I currently contain not to cry out in a scream that will (in all likelihood) sound like my bloody murder, which I find rather fitting considering the circumstances.

It feels as though someone has shoved a white hot rod into my side; my nerve endings sizzle and betray me by carrying the liquid lava to singe its way around my shaking form. The pain continues to strengthen and I feel a sense of detachment drown my consciousness, my mind in its last effort to protect me severs all ties I have to that mortal shell below.

I breathe a mental sigh of relief as the pain lessens. It's short lived, however, as I remember the ties I cannot cut through, the ones that force a yearning for life to fight back against the fire battling through my veins. This time I have something, or rather some_one_ to live for. But you know the saying: "be careful what you wish for?" Well that came around to bite me in the ass.

How long had I spent contemplating the ease with which I could end it all, the ease with which I could rid the world of my existence, merely a whisper on the wind, disturbing no one with my passing. How many times had I slipped, whether it be a subconscious decision or not, and thrown myself into a self-inflicted unconsciousness, and now. Ha! Now that I actually wanted to live, I lie here dying. Karma must be having a riot.

From somewhere outside of my head, I become aware of a scream and another sharp 'bang'. This one, however, was a lot quieter, muffled as though it was coming from underwater.

Silence.

Footsteps approach. Closer. Closer still, then they halt.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry," I hear it, yet am not completely convinced I am comprehending it. "I was too late. Please, baby, please don't go. Forgive me, please."

I want to smile, because he is here, and that's more than I could have dared to wish for. I try to get my brain to coincide with my mouth, though I get the distinct feeling that if an expression does grace my face with its presence, it will not be a happy nor will it be a pretty one. I will my eyes to open so that I might behold the beauty I know is waiting in front of me. _If nothing else_, I think to myself, _let me see him; let me say goodbye_.

I can now slowly feel the awareness creeping back in along with the pinpricks of white-hot fire that seem to be burning through every atom of my being. I gasp, sucking air in through my teeth in a hiss.

"Bella, open your eyes for me, please. Please don't leave me. Please..."

I feel moisture running down my face, am I crying? I slowly force my eyelids to open, an action very much against my body's own wishes. It's dark around the edges of my vision, though it is not the usual cobwebs lingering now, merely an unnatural dusk looming around the corners.

As my eyes adjust to the ominous gloom I see his outline, his beauty a catalyst that forces some of the darkness to recede. His eyes are closed, his brow furrowed and it's then that I realize where the moisture is coming from. His eyelashes glisten with the tears that are now rolling down my own cheeks. He hasn't noticed the battle I've won over my eyelids. So, using the last of my strength, I bring my palm to his face, cupping his dampened cheek. His eyes suddenly shoot open and he is looking down at me disbelief evident in his moss-coloured eyes, eyes that never lie. I do my best to smile at him, stroking his cheek with my hand. He leans into my touch, nuzzling my palm and brings his own up to cover it.

I glance down at the wound that I know to be hiding deep within my left side. Turning the hand already applying what pressure it can apply to the wound I assess just how bad the damage is. I get my answer as the liquid gold that is my blood pools and seeps angrily from the jagged laceration in my side, coating my hand and clothes. My eyes dart to his ashe lets out a wounded sob.

"I lo…love y...you," I manage to choke out through my broken breaths and the deathly blood I detect in my mouth. The taste of rust and melancholies are strong as they gather upon my tongue and roll out of the corner of my lips. I feel him lift me up in his strong, inked arms to rock me back and forth before starting to shake with the silent cries falling from his mouth.

"I love you too, Bella. Fuck, I love you so much, from the first sarcastic remark you shot at me, I've always loved you," he chuckles through his tears in recollection.

I could now feel myself fading and regardless of my attempts to fight it, I knew it was a losing battle.

"Don't bl...blame yo...yourself for th...this," I cough up more congealed blood before closing my eyes and allowing my body to become limp.

"Don't you give up, don't you dare give up," I smile on the inside at the fight my boy held. He was so stubborn, so damn stubborn but I'll be damned if it was one of the reasons I loved him so much. I wanted to tell him that I was trying to fight, but I was too far gone.

My body had already begun to shut down, unable to cope with the pain I was drifting away, submerged beneath the waves of unconsciousness. My last thoughts are of the green-eyed beauty I'd left behind.

My beauty, my love: my Edward.

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><p><strong>Thank you all for reading. Reviews make me warm inside :)<strong>

Hugs x


	2. Chapter 1 Alleyway Meetings

_**A/N: A big thank you to all those who read and fav'd this story, it means a lot **__** Please review, it makes me happy ;)…Updates will occur every Saturday (hopefully). I'm sorry if it isn't great at the moment, it will get better.**_

_**Again a massive shout out to my Beta Linsey, I love you baby! You're amazing.x**_

_**Disclaimer: SM owns all, I just fuck around with the characters :)**_

_**On with the show:**_

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><p>Alleyway Meetings<p>

I walked a little way behind them, as was tradition, it was one of the many, many rules they bestowed upon me. There was a time when I knew each of their rules by heart, I thought it would prevent the punishment, I have learnt differently over the passing years. If they wish to hurt me they will, no reason needs to be given.

Tonight would be another one of their traditions; which as usual I came out worse in. You see ever since I stepped over the threshold into their land I have been used as their personal 'Cinderella' apart from without the glorious ball and magic, unfortunately.

We were on our way to a club, however before you get your excitement up let me clue you in on a few things I have never been allowed into one of these clubs. I am to sit outside no matter the weather or quality of alleyway, and I am to wait until a specified time at which I will call a taxi to arrive at the time they are to exit.

In fact this routine has occurred so often I have made firm friends with a few of the drivers in the area, one being Sethy. My favourite cab driver, he was extremely tanned tall and lanky, with sandy blonde hair with dark brown eyes.

He was adorable, and very much filled the role of younger brother or slightly irritating cousin. I loved him to pieces, and though he didn't know much of my situation he knew enough and dealt with it well though I knew if saddened him at times.

I could hear our destination before I could see it, as was the usual when the destination was an all new make-your-ears-bleed music venue. The three cackling witches next to me call it the "New Man Candy Store." They think it's funny. I can't say that I agree but, hey, what do I know?

We turned the corner to see the biggest motherfucking queue I have ever seen (pardon my French) and trust me; I've seen a lot of club queues in my time. I was so lost in questioning just how high high-heels had to be before they became a hazard to those around them that I only just managed to stop myself from bumping into the terrible trio that had come to a halt in front of me. They lined up, each wearing a different type of hooker outfit. Lauren stepped forward, setting her steely gaze of disgust on me.

"Now, remember what we said, ducky. Three hours. No more, no less. And if there isn't a cab waiting for us when we get out, well, let's just say I'll find a way to make that ugly face of yours even uglier!"

She threw her head back and let out a scratchy and grating laugh. It honestly sounded like something between nails down a chalkboard and a bag of cats being hit continuously against a wall. I suppressed my shudder and nodded my head in the affirmative. After a moment I looked up to see them all wearing an identical expression of expectancy. A few moments of wondering what it was that I could have possibly missed before Lauren's expression turned furious.

Before I had time to brace myself, Lauren's manicured hand swung through the air and landed on my left cheek with enough force to throw my meagre 90-pound body to the ground. Gritting my teeth and fisting my hands beneath me, I stayed where I had landed knowing that if I got up the consequences would be a lot worse than what I had just been dealt. I felt her 4-inch heel dig into my lower back as her stagnant breath washed past my ear.

''Have you already forgotten how you are to address me?''

I let out a 'whoosh' as I realised my idiotic plunder. Whenever I answered her, it must be with a "Yes, Mistress," I mean seriously, could her ego get any bloody bigger? I swallowed what was left of my pride and answered her using the correct title. The word tasted bitter on my tongue and I had to stop myself from cursing at the sadistic bitch hovering above me.

I felt her heel leave and quickly stood up while brushing myself off. Pieces of grit crumbled onto the pavement. With my head down, I quickly scurried to the opposite side of the alley we were currently in and scanned the pavement for a relatively clean place that would be suitable to perch myself on for the next three hours. I glanced down at my watch. 11pm. I was in for a long night. With a sigh I took my duffel bag off my shoulder and took out the blanket I had packed to wrap around myself. I sat down in a relatively sheltered corner of the road so I could be directly opposite the entrance to the whore-hive. Speaking of which, I could still see the three stripper look-a-likes trying to use their fake tits to get the bouncer to get them in. When that didn't work they went straight to bribery, handing over a few notes to the greasy looking guy on duty who fingered the notes before slipping them away into his style coat. Yes, I am most definitely a Hot Fuzz gal. What can I say? Simon Pegg is a comic genius!

Once I was settled I pulled my battered notebook from my bag and situated it on my lap, reached for the pen that permanently resided behind my right ear and opened up my book to the last page of writing.

After an hour of bringing the pen down in a flurry of repetitive scratches, I heard the familiar slam of the entrance door and then the typical moans of the few left who hadn't managed to get in. Craning my neck, I glanced around, eyes falling on the bouncer.

Noticing the new bouncer currently on the door I guessed McGreasy's shift had ended. The bouncer, who was currently turfing a few latecomers back home, was definitely not the grease-weed on earlier.

I shivered beneath my blanket and studied the new guy. He was big, not in a fat way, more in the side-of-a-barn-door kind of way. I couldn't even guess at how much he weighed, probably three times my weight and then some. He turned when all the stragglers had dispersed, stomping his legs in the wintry air that had made Seattle its home over the last few months. As if he could feel my stare, his gaze turned to my corner. He looked startled as he noticed that he was not alone. I raised my eyebrow in defiance, daring him to question my appearance. He smiled, turned to check no one was kicking up a fit inside (or so I guessed) and, once satisfied, headed for my corner. As he got to the spot I was seated, he turned so we were side by side and slid down the wall until he mirrored my position.

I turned my head towards him, annoyed that he had decided it would be a good idea to invade a stranger's personal bubble. My death glare apparently had no affect on the giant goon so I decided to ignore him in the vain hope that he would get the message and piss off. Again, apparently to no avail.

"So, punk, what brings you to the shitty pavement outside a club on a Friday at"-he checked his watch-"midnight?"

I groaned, so ignoring him wasn't going to work. Maybe if I humoured him he'd stop bothering me? Somehow I doubted it.

''Punk, huh?'' I chuckled. ''Oh it's a favourite past-time of mine. Hmmm, yeah, I just love waiting in the dark and the cold for hours on end whilst listening to music that makes me want to puncture my eardrums just to make the torture end,'' sarcasm coated every word as I rolled my eyes at the guy next to me. Bouncer dude just chuckled.

''I deserved that I suppose, and yeah,'' he looked at me again, ''Punk suits you down to the ground. Small, young and full of spunk, it also rhymes, which makes it that much more awesome!''

He looked at me with a big Cheshire cat grin, dimples and all, across his meat-head face. Try as I might I couldn't suppress the grin that graced my own face but I quelled it as soon as I saw the triumphant look in his eye.

''Ah ha! You smiled, punk. I'm hilarious and don't even try to deny it!''

I let a light chuckle escape my lips, ''Yeah, yeah. Whatever, bouncer boy.''

''Bouncer boy? Excuse me, young lady, but I think I'm the older one here so you can just plug it!''

Our banter continued back and forth, flowing easily around us until the first few people started to make their way out of the club, signalling the time for me to get ready and for bouncer boy to make his way back to his post. I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone, pressing it to my ear as I packed up my blanket and book.

Seth picked up after the first two rings, "hey, bitch! Long time no speak, give me the address and I shall be there in 10," I laughed. See, that's why I loved Seth, he didn't mess about. After giving him the road number and promising to meet up with him sometime without 'the three whores from skankville' (his words not mine) and hung up. Slinging the bag over my shoulder I went to go stand next to bouncer boy.

"Well thanks for making my evening slightly more bearable, same time next week?" I winked at him at the end of my cheesy line causing both of us to burst out giggling. I don't know what it was about this dude, but I already felt that I'd known him for years rather than a few hours. He was like the big brother I'd always wanted.

I was wiping away a few stray tears when the (now drunk) terrible trio came out, right on time as I saw Seth pull up round the corner. My smile fell away as I saw they each had a sleazy guy on their arm. Chewing my lip, I prayed Seth had brought the 7-seater. As soon as they noticed me standing there they began giggling. Kate stepped forward wobbling on her unsteady legs.

"Well, look who it is. It's ducky. Say, where's the cab, ducky?"

I pointed to where Seth was waiting with the cab keeping my eyes downcast.

"Good girl, but we don't want to walk do we? Get him to drive closer," I moved so I could catch Seth's attention, sighing with relief when I realised he had brought a cab that would house the gang. He curved away from the pavement and towards the entrance, stopping in front of the drunken couples. I glanced in and realised there would only be enough room for 6 of us, and of course, I would be the one to walk home. Shoving all of them into the back, bar one of the guys who was elected to get into the front I walked over to the drivers' side and leaned in to hand Seth the money.

"Belly! I'm so sorry I totally forgot that they might have brought home some sleaze-bags! I was in a rush and this was the first cab at the station and…"

I raised my hand to stop the mad rush of apologies spilling from him.

"Don't worry about it, Sethy. It isn't your fault, here," I handed him over the $10 I knew it cost to get home from here but he wouldn't accept it.

"Keep it, it's my fault you have to walk I don't want your money too, whore," he smiled but I could tell he was still beating himself up inside. I decided not to hurt his man-pride this time and to keep the money without hassle. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him before taking a step back.

I turned to see the bouncer waving me over and quickly made my way over to him, knowing that I didn't have much time to waste before I had to be at the house to open it before the skanks and their dates arrived.

"You need a lift, punk?"

His face was concerned and despite the fact that I didn't think he secretly wanted to take me back to his lair Silence of the Lambs style, I decided to decline this time.

"Sorry, dude, but rain check," I pointed at myself and said, "Major trust issues here, I can't have you going all silence of the lambs on me now can I?"

"Alright but get home safe, yeah? The name's Emmett, but you can call me Emmy. Don't tell anyone though, got it, punk?"

Emmy, it suited him. I smiled and saluted.

"Sir. Yes, sir. I'm Bella but you can call me Bellie."

He nodded appreciatively and then as if hit by an idea he took the phone that was still in my grip and pressed a few buttons.

"I programmed in my number so you better text me to tell me you're ok, or I'll go ninja on yo punk ass!"

He smiled but I could tell that he was serious. Chuckling I waved goodbye, rounded the corner and broke out into a sprint, praying to high heaven I would get to the house before everyone else.

Twenty minutes later, I was a panting, sweaty mess. Reaching our road, I perked my ears up and to my dismay I could hear the faint drunken ramblings of the party that had gotten there before me.

Hurrying, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the key and pushing past everyone I reached the door and opened it, letting them through hoping they were too drunk to notice my tardiness.

As I stepped through the door and let it shut behind me I heard the sound of footsteps approach me. Glancing up I could see Lauren's enraged glare through the darkness of the house.

"What have I told you about being late, duckling?"

I knew that the question didn't need an answer and neither did she want one so I just kept silent. I could hear the others waiting for her by the stairs, whispering amongst themselves because of the parents that lay sleeping upstairs, oblivious to what was happening beneath them. Lauren pushed me hard, catching me off guard and I stumbled in the darkness. My back hit the front door but she moved with me and slammed me harder against it, causing the handle to dig into my spine.

"You just be glad that I have a distraction tonight, duckling," she gave me one more disapproving glance, pinched my arm and moved away. Rolling my eyes, I pushed off the door, wincing as I felt the broken skin on my back. I made my way upstairs, crept into my room, stripped and slipped between the cool sheets of my bed.

I stared at the ceiling and I let a few stray tears fall down my cheeks. It was only here, alone and isolated, that I ever let myself become weak. Hugging the comforter to my chest, I closed my eyes. 'Ducky' was the nickname I has been christened with the moment I stepped foot into this damn household. Short for Ugly Duckling due to the name I used to carry, Isabella Swan.

I'm now Isabella Denali, orphaned age 12, flown to America and adopted by Renee and Carmen Denali at age 15, mentally abused by the Denali sisters from the moment I stepped into their house. Now I'm 18 and this is my story.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading, kisses to you all, drop me a line and tell me what you think :) x<strong>


	3. Chapter 2 Beside her lies a prodigy

_**Hello my beauties (: Yes Yes I know an early update! Don't get too used to it though, I merely decided that as today is a special day for the brits (of which I am one) I would treat you all by adding this. Thank you for the fav's and reviews they warm my heart. Just a pre-warning this story contains **__**strong mature adult themes, strong language, lemons, drug abuse and deals with issues of a fragile nature**__**. If you are offended by any of the above please get out whilst you still can and lock the door behind you because it's gonna be one hell of a bumpy ride after this chapter I can tell you that!**_

_**Linsey, my darling I love you, what more can I possibly say more than thank you for everything you have contributed!**_

_**Disclaimer: No I own nothing, no characters only my twisted plot line!**_

_**Enjoy:**_

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><p><strong>Beside her lies a prodigy:<strong>

My alarm blared off, signalling the beginning of a new day. I groaned, rolling over to turn off the incessant beeping. Sighing I heaved myself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from my blurred eyes. I hopped to the floor and made my way to the closet before padding into the bathroom to clean and change.

By the time I was descending the stairs I could only just hear the beginning rituals of each of the hags, they would definitely be late into school again today, as usual. Sitting down at the kitchen table, I placed my head into my hands in exasperation silently dreading the forth-coming day. The building holding together an unstable balance between hormones and mating rituals was not, as you can guess one of my favourite places to be.

Renee came over and placed a plate of chopped up fruit in front of me, smiling empathetically at me. I gave her a weak smile in return and skewered a piece of strawberry with my fork.

What felt like hours later we were finally graced with the presence of my three nemeses, I had finished my vitamin-filled platter and was standing by the sink washing my plate and cup. As my hand made repetitive circles on the dish I got lost within my mind and paid no attention to the fact that the water was slowly heating that was, until I scolded my hand under the direct stream of burning water.

I winced under my breath turning inconspicuously to make sure no one had noticed. The three of them were still eating their breakfasts and comparing manicures, too engrossed to notice me. For which I was glad.

Luckily, Renee had left a few minutes before. I turned back to the sink, looking out the window as I basked in the numbing feeling that followed the physical pain. Looking down I saw that my left hand had become blotchy and red, angry at my misdemeanour. My mind however was far from angry, rolling around in the relief like a lazy psychotic cat in the sun.

I shook my head, trying to clear it and continued on with the washing (turning down the heat of the faucet). When I had finished I raced up to my room, grabbing the books and homework I had to hand in today along with my artwork. I loved using art as an outlet almost as much as I did writing. However, my love for words far surpassed any desire or adoration I had for anything, or anyone.

I came down the stairs and hopped into my battered truck. It was obnoxiously loud and did nothing for letting me fade into the background, but it was a part of my past, a part of my fading memories that I could not bear to part with.

Pulling out of our drive, I made the short journey to school. I had a love hate relationship with school because while I was free from those 'sisters' of mine. (They all went to some fashion college together, learning how to turn their college 'failures' into some sort of 'talent'). I still detested the social politics and rules dominating the institutional characteristics that defined my experiences with the system so far.

However, if there was something that kept me going with my feet on the ground (which still allowed my head to fly in the clouds of insanity) it was the fact that I needed to prove myself through my grades. Which, of course I couldn't achieve without entering the dismal and heavy gates of teendom. The only way I could reach any pinnacle of perfection was if my academic results were 100%.

Yes, I am unrealistic, this I have come to accept. I am also unhappy with myself, which is also something I have also come to accept. I always thought, hoped, I would change over these past few years. I remember sitting in my bed when I was younger, when I was innocent and light, I dreamt of becoming _me _of becoming _someone _and now that I am me, I dream of being someone else.

I sighed as I pulled into the school lot, people barely turned at the sound of my decrepit baby now. I shuddered to recall the first day, as people were most definitely turning then. There was pointing and laughing as well, definitely not one of my better appearances to say the least, but it didn't quell my love for the metallic beauty.

Cutting the ignition, I took a deep breath, trying to scatter the cobwebs that lingered on the outskirts of my mind: a morning reminder of my restless night. Bolstering my backpack, I cautiously made my way out of the truck, aware of the ongoing battle I seemed to be having with gravity; we did not get along.

Keeping my head down and eyes on the ground I made my way to first lesson. I had carefully planned my time so that when I arrived at the gates of confinement I had the exact amount of time to get to my locker, drop off, pick up work, and then make it to class as the bell rang. It meant no pointless lingering and no rush; it helped ease my mind. One of the many little and obsessive actions I had developed over time.

This morning I had triple art, a blessing most days, unfortunately today was not such a day. I had trouble with the pieces I was meant to be bringing today and, despite the amount of work I had put in, I was simply not happy with the outcome. However, that was my opinion. Mr. Twohig would surely have a completely different verdict on the matter.

The one thing I was content with was my essay, 6000 words: fluid in prose and poetically cynical. Though it was not my writing that concerned Mr. T, it was my self-destructive nature that meant my drawings, whilst detailed, were far and few between, most of them making it into an angry screwed up pile in the corner of my room.

I often question my motivation for taking art. I still haven't come up with an answer, damn cobwebs.

We had a new family joining today, the only reason I knew this was because Mr. T had told us that one of the boys would be making our meagre group of 5 into a marginally less meagre group of 6. It almost caused for a celebration of great magnitude and grandeur. Almost.

Since I was lost in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed that there was someone leaning against my locker, chewing pink gum and blowing loud smacking bubbles. Sometimes I wondered if she went out of her way to irritate me.

I merely pushed Jessica Stanley out of the way as I reached into my locker to deposit everything bar my sketchbook and pastels. Slamming the door shut I turned and cocked my eyebrow at the blonde slut who was currently blocking my exit to the art room. Her eyes appraised my attire and a smirk graced her glossed lips.

I was wearing a simple ratty t-shirt covered in paint and charcoal stains (that wouldn't come out no matter how many times it had been washed) and a striped skirt that fell just above my knee with my ratty Dr Martins reaching to just below the knee. It was my usual attire whenever I had triple art.

Apparently, it did not live up to the slut's standards (if they can really be called that).

"You do realise we have moved on from the 60's right?" Her nasally voice grated against my ears almost as painfully as the so-called music played at the clubs I so often visited the outside of. I looked at her in disbelief, was this girl blind or just mentally dim? I mean, 60s? Really? I may be no fashion guru but even I know the difference between the 60s and 80s.

"You do realise that chewing gum diminishes brain cells and causes penis growth, right?" Before her tiny pea-sized brain had time to process my insult I ducked under her arm and made my way swiftly to class just as the bell rang.

Taking my usual seat at the back I laid out everything I had with me today, taking out the drawings I had slipped into my sketchbook and lining them up on the table ready to be shot down by my sceptical eye.

I made my way over to the photocopier when I had chosen the images I wanted to mass-produce. Mr. T was in his office talking to the one I guessed to be the new boy, although I couldn't be sure as he was angled away from the window.

Slipping in my earphones I waited for the shifting light and electrical movement of the photocopier to be done before quickly collecting everything I needed and making my way back to my place to sit down and start carving into the copies with my oil pastels.

I was so lost within the music that flowed into my ears and with creating the image I had captured in my head and transferring it onto the figure beneath my fingertips that I did not notice someone was standing by my desk. However, when I felt someone gently shake my shoulder I jumped nearly clear out of my seat; startled by the contact. I took the ear buds out and looked up to see Mr. T standing next to the new boy, who can only be described as possibly the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes upon before in my life.

It took a few seconds for my brain to start working and for what Mr. T was saying to get through the thick fog that had settled due to the immersion I had with my work. But when it finally left, I realised that I was to help the new kid get settled in the class: show him where everything was kept and so on and so forth. Simple stuff.

I quickly moved my scattered works into a more orderly mess so that the beautiful apparition next to me could sit down. Mr.T was glancing over my stuff and muttering things, punctuating each thought with a thoughtful 'hmm.' I bit my lip, dreading the imperfection I knew he would see and decided that showing new guy the floor would be a good distraction and stop me from rambling on about how much I hated my work. The words were gathered behind my lips with reinforcements ready to break down the barrier so I quickly scooted to the end of the table and caught the guy's eye while motioning towards the room with what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

He caught on and quickly dumped his stuff and stood next to me waiting for me to give him the grand tour. His scent permeated my senses due to his proximity and I nearly swooned, honest. It was as though he bathed in sweet apple cider and cinnamon rolls, I think I may have drooled a little as well.

I quickly walked over to the side where all the cabinets were and started showing and explaining to him the basic layout, where everything was where we could store stuff overnight. When I was done, I turned to him smiling and spreading my arms: "Voila!"

Apart from a few nods and grunts, the guy had said nothing. It was a tad unnerving but each to his own, you know? I made my way back to my seat just as Mr. T was making his way back over to us. He gave new guy a nod and then proceeded to sit down opposite me, the next 10 minutes consisted of him breaking down each piece I had produced. He liked them but he didn't 'luurrvvee' them, right. I inwardly rolled my eyes, as he then told me what I could do to improve. His never-ending words of wisdom were: 'be honest with yourself, delve into your feelings, portray them through your art, and don't hide, ashamed, from whom you are.'

He was a broken record on repeat and it didn't matter how many times he had already told me those sentences he would tell me again and again until he saw the evidence of the fact that it was going in. The thing was I had tried to 'use my emotions' but the only emotions present when drawing were anger and frustration, you know the kind of anger that leaves nothing in its wake but destruction. No beauty ever escaped me when fury was coursing its way through my veins like wild fire.

So I kept those drawings hidden, to myself, they were my nightmares. They were what I could become if I let myself be taken by the wave of despair that crashed over me. I kept me at arms length because I was the one person I could never trust, and that scared me. _I _scared me.

Sighing I nodded at my art teacher putting the earphones back into my ears to drown out the sound of his repetitive noises. Just as I was choosing, what music to listen to I realised that I had neither introduced myself nor found out the name of the new guy. I sighed at myself and turned to the cider-smelling beauty beside me.

"I'm Bella by the way. Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

He turned to me and smiled, by god if I didn't just die a little inside at the sight of it. It was one of those million dollar smiles. He could get into the best university with that beauty alone, I was sure of it.

"I'm Edward."

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><p><em><strong>Tadaa, there you have it. Please drop a review and tell me what you think; they're almost as good as apple cider and cinnamon rolls. <strong>_


	4. Chapter 3 Panicked Flight

**A big shout out to all those of you who have subscribed, read and fav'd this story. And those of you who have reviewed it means a lot (: Please keep them coming I love hearing what you think of the story.**

**Warning****: This story is not for the lighthearted, it contains material of a fragile nature, I mean no offense in what I write and if you are effected by any of these mentioned topics please stop reading as there will be a lot of it to come:**

**Self-harm, Eating Disorders, Drug abuse, Physical and Mental abuse, character death.**

**I know it is a long list but I want you all warned enough before you begin reading, and to those of you who continue to read I thank you from the depths of my heart because it makes writing all of this angst that more manageable. I promise there will be a HEA though it may seem unlikely at the moment I have one planned out and it will be worth it when we get there! Sorry for the delay and the short chapter but the drama at the end (hopefully) makes up for it. There will be fluff and lemony breaks throughout the story but my poor B&E have their work cut out for them. Thank you again for reading.**

**Linsey my darling Beta you are my world, I honestly couldn't do this without you, you help me get through those horrible nasty bits and your comments make me smile and make this story so much better.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, none of the characters only the twisted plot line is my own.**

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><p><strong>Panicked Flight:<strong>

He was Irish, and not just slightly Irish, he was the full-blown panty-drenching package, his accent alone was dripping sex. I snorted, as his words managed to penetrate the drooling mess my head had become. I swear I couldn't help it, but for all the names this Irish beauty in front of me could have had, he was an Edward? He cocked an eyebrow at me so I cocked one right back. He merely shook his head smirking at me before going back to sorting out his work. It was then that I actually took notice of his work and I almost wished I hadn't.

Of all the people to sit next to me it had to be the one whose art was perfection. I groaned inwardly, as if I needed another reason to loathe my work. I snuck another look at the drawings currently laid out on the table next to me. They were immaculate to the point of insanity. They didn't seem real, or maybe they seemed too real. Whatever it was I suddenly felt very inadequate and embarrassed to be sitting next to this art prodigy.

I decided to stop my pity party before it got into full swing and instead, listened to my music, too intimidated to speak to Edward. I felt like a bitch especially seeing as he was new but I just did not trust myself to speak with him.

When class was over I pretty much flew from my chair, and out the door. I knew my behaviour was inexcusable but I also knew it wasn't just because of his raw talent. For the first time, whilst in his presence I had actually _felt_ something, something real and deep. A tugging that spread throughout my body like a wildfire, before I had even noticed the seed being planted it was there. More noticeable than the cobwebs it pulled at me and I wanted. I wanted him; I craved his smell and his moss-coloured eyes.

I knew I was being irrational, fuck I hadn't spoken more than a few words to the guy. But neither had I ever felt this way before. It was new, it wasn't pain, it was exciting, it tasted of freedom and I yearned for another hit already. Merely sitting at such close proximity to him caused an overwhelming urge to touch him to come bubbling forth. I was practically gnawing my hand off to keep it to myself by the end of that lesson!

By lunchtime I had had enough, after art everything seemed to go tits-up, during biology we were supposed to be doing blood typing. Which for me is no issue, I am cool with blood. My life would be made much more difficult if I did have an aversion to it I can tell you! However, this was obviously not something my fellow peers shared, for just as I was about to prick myself, I spied from the corner of my eye frat boy Mike turn green. Then, turn to the side, to where I was sitting and then spew everywhere. I mean everywhere.

It was rancid, how that boy managed to consume so much for breakfast confounded me. Suffice it to say that I now had a delicious puke aura clinging to me. Luckily I had managed to stay out of the direct spray of death juice, something Jessica had not managed to do. I snickered at the memory.

Not in the mood for food, I made my way to my locker. I had a study period after lunch and then was free to go home. Picking up my second hand copy of 'The Bluest Eye' I made my way out to my favourite spot on the home ground, round the back of the gym.

Settling down with my back to the wall I began to read, I was so engrossed in the book that I didn't notice they were there until someone's foot made contact with my thigh. I glanced up in shock to see Lauren and Jess glowering over me. I squinted at them trying to think of what it could be that they wanted. I came up blank.

I stayed in silence waiting for them to make the first move. It didn't take long, as I had suspected.

"So we hear from Tanya that you have been a bad, naughty little ducky," Lauren sneers at me as she says this.

I cannot say I am shocked. Tanya has been using these two whores as her 'beat on Bella' posse since I arrived here. I'm used to it. I just stare at her, unnervingly still and silent. They look at each other unsure of how to proceed. I just go back to my book and drown out the insults they are trying to throw at me.

They are about to give up, I can feel it, sense their defeat. But then I see a change in the wind, a hint of defiant determination. Lauren turns to Jess, though it is all a ploy because she is saying it to me.

"No wonder her parents both committed suicide; I wouldn't be able to deal with having a psycho for a daughter either. They got out before Bella here could have a go at doing it for them."

I looked at her, vision narrowing in on her words as they ran through my head. They twisted; they warped and changed before me. I began to sweat. Had she just insinuated that I would have killed my…? My breathing sped up, my heart clamoured against my fragile ribs, wanting to break free and spill upon the floor.

The book slipped from my grip and thudded to the pavement below my feet, slowly I raised myself to standing. Slowly I clenched my hands into fists. I was shaking; the blood pumped through my dilated veins and it was all I could hear. Her hate filled lies were all that I could see. I wanted to tear her eyes out; I wanted to rip out her tongue. She didn't deserve to mention them. She was vile.

They were exchanging worried glances as they looked between one another and then back to me.

"What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Just. Say?"

I was daring her. The rage inside me wanted her to take the bait so I could let destruction free on a rampage. I was coiled, a spring; ready because I knew she would take it.

"It isn't your fault your parents didn't love you enough to stay around. Bella. Oh, wait, sorry. Yeah, it is, you worthless piece of good for nothing shit!"

I snapped. I lunged for her snarling and seeing red as my fist made contact with her face. I heard a distinctive 'crack' as my knuckles landed right on target and destroyed her perfect button nose.

She screamed and stumbled back from me, cursing me as she did so. But I was already gone. Closing my eyes I could see it unravel, I could smell the blood. God, why was there so much blood, always, always so much blood. It was everywhere, I was covered in it. My hands were shaking.

I opened my eyes but instead of seeing the school building and Lauren's running form, I was transported back to the scene.

I wailed clenching my eyes shut and banging my head. I didn't want this; I didn't want to remember. _Please don't make me remember_.

I stumbled and fell, slumping against the wall, when my eyes opened again I was staring into hers, my mother's_._They were sightless open and questioning me with their confusion. I didn't have the answers; I never had the answers.

I pulled at my hair digging my nails into tender flesh as sobs racked me. I couldn't do this, I wretched as the smell reached me. Rotting decomposition, I crawled in search of comfort, in search of warmth. The warmth had left with the last pint of blood that was now covering me.

I took my hands from my hair and placed them on my arms tearing into the skin there. I closed my eyes and rocked back and forth. _It's not real, it's not real, it's not real._But it felt real; it felt more real to me than anything else, and now the voices were coming.

They always came with the flashbacks, I hated them and I wanted them _out_, out of my head. I want to cut them from me. _She_ had once told me that if I let the blood come out I would be pure again. I never felt pure, I was _tainted,_ and she told me so. After the blood and the screams. When the blackness was lifted, she told me I was _evil_ but she could make me better. She promised she would make me better. And I tried, I did everything she told me, it was never enough-_I promise I tried_-not for her, she told me that without words. She gave me the scars as proof.

Now I will never be perfect. Never. I wanted to be everything for them but it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. I try hard now though. I do because I want them to be proud. Maybe if I am perfect they will come back? Maybe I won't have to remember.

I won't have to remember her clawed fingers cradling a shattered photo of me as a child, perfect and innocent. It was what I once was: unspoilt, beautiful and pure. It had been smothered in blood, distorted by her blood. Blood that runs through me.

He was there too of course. Slumped and vacant he didn't laugh when I told him my joke. I had been saving it up all day and when I told him, he sat there. He sat there limp and broken. I tried to fix him but I didn't have all the pieces. It was all wrong. I couldn't fix them.  
>I broke them and I couldn't make it better.<p>

I don't know how long it was before someone found me, lying on the ground covered in blood. Some Lauren's, some my own. I had split open my head, cracked like an egg it spread across the floor. I had reopened wounds that I had forgotten existed.

I felt myself being lifted and heard the indistinct sound of wailing, it grated against my ears and I wanted to shout at them to stop it. But I couldn't seem to make the connections from my brain to my mouth. Someone had crossed the wires changing my internal system and nothing worked.

I heard a low voice shushing me as a warm hand was placed on my forehead, I whimpered and sank into the warmth. Darkness quickly rushed to meet me as I began to freefall through numbness. I embraced its welcoming arms; I was home.

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><p><strong>Thank you again and please drop me a review, reading them is almost as good as listening to the Irishward flitting around my head :) x<strong>


	5. Chapter 4 Beautiful Naivety

**Again I must thank all of you for reading, reviewing and subscribing to this story, it means me smile whenever I see that review number go up :) Thank you in particular to chartwilightmom for your constructive criticism and support :) **

**_Warnings: This story deals with mature subject matter, if you are easily offended please do not read. Please read with caution, there is drug abuse, self-harm, abuse and eating disorders in here. _**

**Here is the next chapter, much longer so I hope you enjoy. I love you all dearly. And to Linsey, my darling no words can tell you how thankful I am to you.**

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><p><strong><strong>Beautiful Naivety.

I woke disoriented. Blinking my heavy gaze, I made a slow observation of my surroundings, as I came to I became aware of a slow steady beeping noise. In confusion, I turned my head towards the noise and my eyes came to rest upon a machine to my right. I had become far too familiar with the machine to my right over the years and realised that I must be in a hospital.

I looked down at my wrist and sure enough, there was a needle protruding from the translucent flesh linking me to an IV. Sighing, I let my head rest back against the pillow. It felt as though I had run a marathon and then been beaten by a bat-wielding maniac. It was unpleasant to say the least.

The gown I was wearing showed much more flesh than I would have liked and I could see the raised lumps of scar tissue that marred the surface of my arms. I pulled the thin sheet up so I was covered and waited for someone to come check on me.

Turns out I didn't have to wait long. The doctor came in looking at a chart giving me some time to study him without being self-conscious. He was quite good looking, early 30s, blond hair and sharp features. He was very easy on the eyes, but not my type of guy. I was more into the rough green-eyed beauties who were into art. I wondered who fit right into that criterion. I did an internal eye-roll directed towards myself.

The doctor's eyes met mine and widened in surprise when he found me to be awake. I smiled at him and lifted my hands.

"So, what's the diagnosis then, doc?"

He gave me an odd look and then pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed.

"Do you remember what happened, Isabella?"

As my mind began to slowly compute what he was saying I picked up on his slight accent, it sounded slightly Irish. But I shook that thought from my head, telling myself I was becoming obsessed.

I frowned and searched my memory for the reason I was here. I came up blank, which confused me. I usually had a pretty good memory. Well excluding the few times I… I stopped my train of thought there. Going down that path never ended well for me. I looked back up at him and shook my head slowly in answer to his question. He nodded sympathetically; I had to refrain from glaring at him. I loathed sympathy almost as much as I despised pity.

"You had what we think is a severe panic attack, have you ever had one before?"

I sighed as I slowly began to remember the fuzzy outline of fear and panic. My heart started beating erratically and my hands began to sweat. We both glanced at the machine that gave my reactions away. I turned back to him and swallowed loudly, suddenly feeling as though my tongue were too big for my mouth. It felt like someone had shoved cotton wool into my head.

"Yeah, I've had them in the past, I was diagnosed with GAD and some other things which you will probably get to in there," I nodded towards the chart still resting in his hands. I didn't know how much he had already read but if it was as much as I thought then we both knew there was a lot more than that written in the tiny pages of his chart.

The 'other things' I vaguely brushed off were the much more serious things that I was far from ready to face. The things that I put out of my mind, away, tight in a sealed box to be dealt with far, far into the future, when it wasn't all still so raw.

He nodded again and I saw his eyes flicker briefly from his chart to the scars and wounds hidden from him beneath the blanket. Suddenly a thought occurred to me:  
>"Sorry, but how did I get here?" I realised I had no recollection of getting to the hospital. Not that I had any recollection at all, but one would have thought that getting here being the most recent and non-traumatic thing to have happened.<p>

"My son brought you in actually, I think he is still in the waiting room," I gaped at him; he had a son, not only that but one who was old enough to drive and bring me here? Who was his son, did I know him? Even as these questions flitted through my sluggish head my stomach twisted itself into knots and I had the sick feeling that someone was about to pull a very cruel joke on me.

Sure enough when Dr. Cullen (having introduced himself as he began with some routine questions) came back with none other than Edward following closely behind him I knew I had been right. Well at least my guess at Dr. Cullen's accent was correct.

Oh isn't life such a cruel and funny thing? Edward smiled when he caught sight of me, an emotion similar to relief briefly flashing across his features. His face portrayed emotion perfectly, beautifully well. You could track the feeling progress along his surface before residing and settling within his emerald gaze.

He walked briskly to the chair by my bed and sat down next to me, I couldn't bring myself to look at him, too ashamed of what I knew he had seen. I vaguely heard the door shut and glanced upwards to realise that Doctor C had left to give us some privacy, obviously not understanding that that was the last thing I wanted right now.

I stared down at my hands, clicking my fingers in restlessness. I was so engrossed in feeling and hearing the synaptic fluid pop I almost forgot about the company I had, that was until I felt his hand on mine. He had closed his hand around my own to stop me from pulling off my fingers in agitation. I couldn't help but marvel at the softness of his palms.

I followed his hand up to where it joined his arm, noticing the muscle definition that ran along his forearm and wrapped around the bicep that subtly bulged from the tight tee he was wearing. I had an unhealthy obsession with arms, I loved good arms. His were good arms.

I then followed his shoulder to where it met his neck and then up until I hit the edge of his face. I took a deep breath and decided to meet his gaze. When I did, I was graced with that heart-warming smile and couldn't help but give a timid fleeting one in return.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and looked away quickly again not being able to match the intensity I saw in his eyes. I tried to discretely pull my grip from his because although it was a pleasant sensation it wasn't one I could completely comprehend.

I refused to look at what his reaction was to my action. Instead, I focused on a piece of loose thread in the bed sheet. I swear loose threads are only there to be fiddled with and who was I to deny their purpose? I began to pull on the thread whilst trying to form a decent verbal apology and expression of gratitude. It wasn't going well mentally so I decided I would be better off just getting on with it.

I opened my mouth to start and a weird choking noise escaped me, I huffed in annoyance at the already bad start. I tried again, clearing my throat of its bitter fuzzy feel and began to ramble a semi-coherent apology that even I had trouble understanding.

I felt him chuckle beside me and turned to glare at him. This only seemed to make things more amusing for him so I just sat there with stubbornly crossed arms mentally stabbing him. When he was finished, I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, are you finished now? You know it's very rude to interrupt someone when they are thanking you."

"Oh, so _that's _what you were doing?"

I rolled my eyes at him whilst trying to keep the grin off my face. I was most definitely a lover of sarcasm and so could appreciate his. I turned to him feeling the need to get my point across.

"I really am thankful to you though, I mean I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't turned up. I'm really sorry that you had to see me like that, it must have been traumatising."

I chuckled awkwardly and itched my arm while my gaze flitting on random things around the room. I felt a soft touch on my chin and raised my eyes to meet his. What was it with this guy and eye contact?

"You are very welcome. It wasn't traumatising in the least, I am just glad you only came out with a mild concussion physically."

It didn't escape my attention that he lingered on the 'physically' at the end of his sentence. It was then that his father decided to re-enter the room. He looked at me and then at Edward and then at Edward's hand and raised an eyebrow. Instead of drawing his hand back quickly as I thought he would do Edward merely lingered for a second longer before letting his arm drop to my side.

"Well it looks like we will be able to discharge you later on today. Edward would you mind stepping outside a minute, son?" Edward looked at him as though in deep contemplation before smiling at me one last time and slipping from the room.

I breathed a mental sigh of relief at his exit. Turning to Carlisle, (I'd read it on his name tag) I waited for the 'but.' It didn't take long.

"Before we let you leave we must insist that you have a quick meeting with the hospital therapist."

I shook my head vehemently. I was non-compatible with therapists. Well there was one exception to that rule but that did not matter here. I refused to have to speak to a therapist. I would rather stay here a week than go through with that needless and pointless torture.

"No, I am not a danger to myself I haven't done anything purposefully to suggest that and I do not want to see a therapist. I will answer any questions you need to know but I will not go through with that."

The heart monitor was speeding up and going off like crazy, as I began worrying about what he would make me do. Carlisle quickly noticed this and started to reassure me trying to get me to calm my breathing down. After a few moments, I was able to get my heart rate back to normal.

"Ok, well that is a no go, but we do need to monitor how things are at the moment and how likely it is that something like this will happen again so if you could answer some questions from me…?"

He left it hanging for me to decide. I gnawed my bottom lip weighing up my options, I realised that what he was offering was something no one else would offer and so decided it was my best option. I nodded and he smiled before grabbing my chart and a pen.

"I promise I will be as quick as possible. How long have you been having panic attacks?"

"3 years," my answer was immediate, no calculations needed. He wrote something down on his pad.

"On a rating of 1-10 how severe on average are they, 1 being not that severe and 10 being fainting spells, fatigue and flashbacks?"

"10," there was more writing.

"How often do you have them?"

I thought about it. "On average, once a day."

This went on, some of the questions were easy some harder, by the end not only was I exhausted, I was mentally drained. He smiled at me when he was done and told me that if I felt dizzy or light-headed I was to come back, turned out I had needed stitches from where my head had cracked against the paving.

Just as I was thinking that we were done he took a deep breath and looked up fixing me with an intense gaze. I realised that this is where Edward must have gotten it.

"Now just one more thing. I noticed that you are very seriously malnourished and your weight is way below average. How much are you consuming a day?"

I looked at him almost considering answering his question, something about him made me want to spill my guts and trust him. I didn't like it and I knew that if I told him he would make me stay longer or try and force me to see a 'proper' therapist, and I just didn't want to.

"I'm already seeing a therapist about that and don't want to comment," I felt like bitch for being so short with him but I wasn't one to indulge in emotions. He nodded as though he had expected the answer, which he probably had.

"Ok, well take it easy and if you need anything then feel free to come in and ask me," I smiled and nodded. We both knew I would never take him up on the offer. After he asked me if I had anyone to pick me up -I replied I did but they would have to pick me up a 10-minute walk away- I was allowed to leave.

About half hour later, I was walking out of the front entrance to the hospital. Because of my concussion, I wasn't allowed to drive plus I didn't have my truck with me. Speaking of which, I would have to try and get someone to pick it up from school for me. Renee was working late with Carmen away on business so the lift? That was a load of bull. I knew the girls would be out late tonight and hoped to high heaven they wouldn't see the need to drag me along with them this time.

I walked along the road pulling my coat tighter around me against the brisk late afternoon air. I had been out of it for a few hours so it was now late afternoon. The school had given me the next few days off and I had yet to decide whether this was a good thing or not.

I heard a car coming down the road and walked in tighter to the road, they beeped and I angrily waved them on, it wasn't like I was taking up any of the road. However, they just slowed and pulled up next to me. I turned, ready to start fighting my case and came face to face with one green-eyed beauty.

"And just what do you think you are doing walking home with a severe concussion?"

"I would hardly say my case is severe," I crossed my arms against my chest in defiance. What was it with this kid pushing his perfect nose in my business? I was, of course, well aware that it was probably my exhaustion making me an irritable slag but took no notice to the part of my brain with a few working cells still present.

"Just get in the car, Isabella."

"It's just Bella, Isabella was my grandfather," before awaiting his reaction I slid into the Volvo.

After a few moments, I heard him slide in next to me and when I looked over, I saw that he was gently shaking his head whilst chuckling. Yeah, I have a warped sense of humour. At least he could deal with it; the engine started and we were off. I glanced out of the window getting lost in my thoughts as I watched the greenery roll by in a blur of merging motion.

"So just what were you doing, walking when you specifically told my father that you had a lift. Did little Bella lie?"

His voice had a patronising lilt to it; I wanted to smack him for it. I counted internally to ten repeating to myself that it was the exhaustion and that whilst slapping the mysteriously gorgeous man next to me would be satisfying, it would serve no higher justice.

When I did turn my glare on him, I had calmed myself enough to make sure all my limbs would be staying on my side of the car. I didn't even give him an answer, just turned back to the window. I knew I was being childish but had decided it was a better idea than hitting the poor guy.

"No one is available to pick me up, I didn't mind the walk, I quite like the _silence,_" I stared pointedly at him as I finished the sentence I had decided to utter once the atmosphere in the car had become too stifling.

Edward merely shrugged and continued to stare intently at the road in front of him. I looked down and noticed that his hands were gripping the wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. I also noticed that his leg was bouncing beneath the wheel; his jaw line was tense and his eyes seemed to have turned a darker shade of green.

I frowned in confusion at his sudden change in exterior and mood. I mentally flicked back through our conversation to see if there was anything I could have said that would make him react this way. Unable to come up with anything I turned back to the window, something in the back of my mind was nagging at me but I couldn't figure out what it was.

Something about his posture was familiar but I couldn't place why. We were coming to a stop and I looked about in a daze. When had we arrived on my street? I turned to him; he hadn't once asked me for directions, how could he have possibly known where I lived.

As though he had read my mind, he turned to me:

"I read it in your file," shrugging like it was no big deal he turned back to face the front, I just stared at him in shock, how much else had he read in there?

"I didn't read anything else if that's what you were wondering, just the first page," I looked at him, not completely sure if I could trust him but deciding I had no other choice.

"Well thank you again, I guess?" It came out as a question but he barely looked my way, instead glaring at the windscreen as though it had killed his favourite dog. I turned and got out of the car, when I turned back to say goodbye he had already leaned over and slammed the door shut, speeding away before I could lift my hand to wave.

Mixed signals much?

Shaking my head in confusion I made my way into the house, it was dark when I entered which could only mean one thing; they were out. I breathed out a sigh of relief and dropped my bags by the front door, kicking my shoes off I padded into the kitchen and got out a zero-vitamin water.

Grabbing an apple, I made my way with my feast up the stairs and into my room. On my way up I grabbed my bag, knowing what would happen if one of the girls were to come in and trip over it. I shuddered at the thought.

As I was completing my work to be done for the next day, I heard the front door slam shut. Looking at the clock beside me I knew this was signalling the arrival of Renee, as the girls would most likely not come home for another couple of hours; that was if they didn't find some boys to go home with.

I quickly swept everything off my bed and got beneath the covers turning out my lamp. I heard the creak of the stairs as Renee crept up them. When she reached my room, I heard her come to a halt. The light from the hallway illuminated a strip upon my floor as she opened the door. I heard her sigh as she came in and sat on my bed, she absently played with my hair as she pulled the cover up over me.

I knew she had wanted to talk with me tonight about what tomorrow would bring, and undoubtedly the school would have called her at work to inform her of what had happened this afternoon. I felt bad for blowing her off, but the truth was I did not want to talk about it, or deal with her talking about it. I'd had enough drama for one day.

She got up and left quietly letting the door close behind her. I waited a while before I heard her bedroom light click off so I could turn my light back on. I reached under my bed for the books I had hastily swept under there.

By the time I had finished everything I had for the rest of the week it was already 2 in the morning. I quietly made my way into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower. I then turned to the porcelain beauty to my right. Crouching to the ground, I closed my eyes feeling the premature rush run through my blood.

My heart rate sped up, causing the rush of adrenaline to coarse through my body at a faster rate. All I could hear was the force of desire through my ears. I pressed my fingers to my neck; revelling in the feel of the strong fluttering beats fighting back.

Looking down into the reflection I saw myself distorted, I saw the darkness within me, thriving on the disgust lining my pores. I closed my eyes again, hating what I had become I grated the little particles of myself down the chords, bringing up the disgrace of the day and cleansing myself of my failures. When the dry retching had finished, I stood, shaking and rid the room of any discriminating evidence.

I stepped through the shower doors and leaned against the cool wall trying desperately to stop myself from being overcome by the tremors threatening to bring me to the floor. I let a few tears escape my eyes and felt them mingle with the cooling water. When the first ended its path, the others followed in a torrent of anger and confusion.

My self-loathing filled me and spilled forth over the edge of my sanity. Sobbing, I slipped to the floor and lay there; broken and lost. The events of the day finally caught up with me and I reached up to stop the torrent of water.

I didn't know how long I sat there, staring at nothing and yet staring at everything. I thought about everything I had come to represent, everything I had once been. I recalled that girl, that small perfect package of happiness. I was jealous of her, of that precious child residing within my mind. I wanted her innocence and naivety back.

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><p>There you have it, please drop a line, it makes everything so much more worth it :)<p>

Virtual smooches to you all.


	6. Chapter 6 Monotonous Autopilot

I must apologize for the lateness of this, RL has been more of a bitch than usual to me and I am very sorry! Thank you so much to those who are reading and reviewing this I love you all dearly, you make everything so much more worth it.

_Warning: Contains mature adult content, deals with subject matter of a mature/fragile nature that some may find offensive, I do not mean to cause offense, however there is drug abuse, physical abuse and self-harm in this story, proceed with caution._

Disclaimer: I own only the plot line, nothing else is mine.

Enjoy, Linsey, I love you dearly.

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><p><em>Song for this chapter: 'Blood Bank' Bon Iver<em>

**Monotonous Autopilot:**

When 4:30 came around the world found me unmoving and sitting in the same spot, I could see the little flashing numbers on the clock face taunting me through the now opened door of my bathroom. They were ugly distasteful numbers, laughing at me with their gaping mouths. They warped and twisted, looking at me with red blinking eyes, looming over my haven of comfort.

I couldn't get to it though; the bed that mocked me with its restful refuge of warmth. Muscles locked, I was unable to untie them so I gave up and contented myself with the task of sitting; my hair gnarled around my face, undoubtedly adding to my look of insanity. The desire for what I knew to be hiding a mere few metres away from me was only intensified by the late hour.

My nails were residing in my arms, their biting strength and anger worming through my flesh. It was far from satisfying but stopped my fingers from seeking the path that would lead them to my own destruction, for now anyway. I dared not trust myself, not today. The clock jeered at me again, I restrained myself from sneering right back at those flashing dots of time.

I could no longer feel the cold that had long since made my marrow its home. I could however, see the evidence of it upon me. It lined my flesh in raised balls of frozen shudders; it caused my despondent jaw to continue on in a line of chattering rambles.

I felt something trickle down my right thigh, looking at it I saw the deep red of life making it's way casually to the floor. It had no idea of the tumult of emotions it occurred within me. My nails had found purchase within that thigh, having moved without conscious decision from my arms. My mind flashed with images; some of them memories some of them made up. All with the same outcome: more of that precious liquid spilling to the floor as though it was liquid gold.

The tea I so often spilt was made from a similar liquid gold, it must have been to provoke such violent reactions from _her_. Every morning it was my job to prepare it and I did, normally without fail, but there were occasions when I would catch myself on a protruding nail and be flung to the ground with gold scattering and arcing around me.

Her anger I have never seen matched; it was fury at its most natural, most raw. In that moment as I lay panting in the midst of my failure she paid me no pity and as if I had caused a great offense her punishment held only pain. It was brutally true, and it crashed down upon me as a wave, wild and untamed the damage done was beautiful. It turned me into a canvas of indistinguishable gore and swollen tissue.

Her snakes of wrath flew with the spittle of her cruelty; it was something I became frozen in the face of. Though my eyes were open to the present, the constant stream of my past blinded my reality, blurring with those tiny numbers of malice, constantly illuminating the darkness of my room with their tiny lights, to give _her_the red eyes her malevolence deserved.

Sighing I allowed my eyes to slip close, choosing darkness over memories, nightmares over truth. Slowly I felt awareness seep from my locked limbs, dreams loomed forth, engulfing my form and unlocking my frozen muscles.

When I woke, I was still propped against the tiled walls of the shower. There was the faint light of dawn climbing upon my windowsill in a silent yawn. I moved my creaking limbs from their cemented positions, moaning quietly at their statuesque protests. Feeling had fled from my legs and I desperately tried to rub them into movement.

It did not work. Wincing, I pulled myself into a standing position and slowly shuffled into my bedroom. The blinking winks stated it was 5:40; I sat upon the edge of my bed shaking the nightmares from my mind.

I saw the scabs forming from the corner of my eye; my arms were interlaced with the dried blood of my internal debate. I fingered each crescent and smiled at the sharp little sting that came with each brush of pads against my claw marks.

When feeling started to crawl back into my legs I made my way back into the bathroom in search of a damp towel to rub off each strand of red. The stiffness of my body weighed me down with each slow mechanical step. I avoided looking into the mirror as I washed away the remnants of my self-control; the reddish-brown water circled the sink before slowly turning clear.

I brushed my teeth of their furry feel and got ready for the day ahead, mind constantly on other things. By the time I had everything ready I could hear the household slowly begin to stretch and shiver itself awake.

I heard Renee making coffee downstairs and smiled at the idea of a steaming cup for myself, God knows I would need it to get me through today. Slowly swinging my backpack onto my shoulder, I made my way cautiously down the steps, well aware of the fact that lack of sleep affected my balance more than usual.

As I walked past the bitches' bedrooms, I quickly held my ear up for any sign they had returned last night, having not been aware of anything at any point this morning. I couldn't hear anything, but that could just mean they were sleeping off a hangover.

Making my way into the kitchen I dropped my bag by the table and went up to Renee who was standing away from me washing up. I slipped my arms around her middle and rested my head on her shoulder breathing in the bittersweet smell of freshly washed cotton and warmth.

Renee turned in my embrace and wrapped her motherly arms around my body. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to bask in the feeling of love. A few tears escaped and landed on her top, she ignored them and stroked my hair softly.

"You know you aren't meant to be going in to school today don't you?" I smiled, because whilst it was true that I had indeed forgotten this fact last night whilst finishing everything for the day ahead, I hadn't forgotten this morning.

I just knew I couldn't be stuck inside today with nothing but time on my hands to think, which was something I was very, very bad at. "I know Ren, but I can't be inside today, I'm just going to go on a walk. Do some reading, a bit of work, you know clear my head," she pulled back and looked at me, and I mean really looked at me, I had to fight the urge to look away knowing that she was searching for something in my gaze. Whatever it was that she found seemed to calm her and she smiled at me knowingly, "ok, Bellie. Just stay safe, alright, honey?"

She reached over the counter and produced a translucent container that she had filled with fruit. I laughed at her maternal ways and took the box without argument. Renee pulled me into another embrace and then shooed me out telling me to go and 'embrace the sunshine'.

I had to smile at her attempts to brighten up my day, especially this day: May 7th, the day my life went to shit. It was exactly 6 years ago that my parents had died. Since I had found them silent and rigid upon the living room floor. 6 years since _she _had come into my life.

Shaking my head in an effort to rid my swollen mind from these thoughts I quickly made my way from the house and to the footpath that wound round the back of the house leading away from the garden and eventually ended up deeper into the city. Our house was located on the suburbs however closer to down than other suburban areas, which suited me down to the ground.

I wandered aimlessly for a while, stopping at parks here and there to read or sit. I eventually found myself outside my favourite bookshop, 'Twice Sold Tales'. I walked in, breathing the smell of old books and smiling to myself.

As I made my way past the desk, I saw Jamie and waved to her. She smiled her signature toothy grin and opened her arms wide for an enveloping hug. Never one to let down I embraced the sweet woman who had become a dear friend to me over the years.

"Hello, Isabella dear. Look at you; you just keep getting more and more beautiful! How are you today?" No matter how many times I had insisted her on calling me Bella, she never caved; insisting that Isabella was a beautiful name that I should accept. She was the only one who ever got away with it.

"I'm surviving, Lutty. How're you? How's Postal today," Postal was one of the many cats Jamie had gathered over the years, her real name I could not recall, however due to the fact that she was nearly always heavily pregnant when I saw her I had given her the title 'The Postal Service', after one of my favourite bands.

"Oh, the sweet little thing gave birth two days ago! 8 kittens she was holding in her, the poor thing," I laughed at Jamie's description of her favourite cat (though she readily denied this fact stating she 'didn't have favourites') that was far from 'little'.

I was then dragged to the back of the shop and through the employee door. Just to the side of a scarily tall tower of books was Postal, curled protectively around 8 tiny moving balls of fluff. I plopped myself down next to them and stroked mamma cat, cooing to her quietly.

"I'm going to go back to the front of the shop, darling, you call me if you need anything," I nodded noncommittally, too involved in the tiny bodies in front of me. I saw one kitten pull away from feeding and blindly scramble for a place to lie down.

Carefully I picked up the little thing, delicately holding it against my chest. Postal had one eye trained on me, but after seeing I wasn't going to do her baby any harm she went back to her slumber.

Looking at the tiny form in my hands, I smiled stroking a little tuft of hair that stuck up on its forehead like a Mohawk. I smiled to myself and adjusted little Mohawk (yes I was naming it this) before pulling one of the closest books to me and after checking the author and seeing it was Tolstoy, settled myself down to read.

What felt like mere moments later I felt myself being gently shaken. Rousing myself from drowsiness, I opened a bleary eye and saw Jamie in front of me grinning sweetly. Looking down I saw Mohawk nestled sweetly in the crook of my neck.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but we are closing now, thought I should wake you up lest RenRen comes down to shout at me," I giggled quietly at her nickname for Renee, and looked down at the watch on my wrist, which professed the time to be 3:00. I must have been asleep for at least four hours! Feeling guilty, I opened my mouth to apologise to Jamie.

She raised a hand to stop me giving me a stern look. "No, no, no, I won't be having any of that. You came in here looking exhausted, Isabella, and I know what the day is today. Any rest you have gotten is a load off my mind," I nodded in thanks and kept my mouth shut miming a zipping motion.

She giggled girlishly and picked Mohawk up off my lap, placing him back with his mother. Cracking my various bones, I hopped up from the ground, bringing my bag with me. I hugged Jamie, placing a 20-dollar bill in her back pocket as I did so to thank her for all she did for me. It wasn't much but it was all I had.

She patted my back and then let go of me, turning so I wouldn't see the sheen of tears in her eyes. Jamie was the person who knew the most about my past and though I did not know why, ever since I had met her she cried for me on this day.

Giving Postal and Mohawk one last pat, I made my way out of the door and trudged the way back to my house. I had been walking on autopilot, thinking back on everything that had happened to me in the last 6 years, so when I finally reached my street, having taken a few detours it, was nearing dark.

Taking in a deep breath and placing a plastic smile on my face, I slipped my key into the lock of the door and pushed my way through. Slipping off my shoes by the front door, I listened out for where the various occupants of the household were.

I could hear the telly in the living room as well as pots and pans shuffling in the kitchen. Thinking the kitchen to be my safest bet, I turned towards it. Peering my head round the door, I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the familiar outline of Carmen by the counter. Clearing my throat to announce my presence, I stepped over the threshold.

Carmen turned round and smiled when he saw it was me. "Bellie!" I walked forward and he placed his arms round me kissing me on the forehead as he did so. "Hey Carmen," with his arm still around me he directed us over to the fridge, pulling out the tofu before slamming the door shut again. "How are you, darling," he smiled before turning to the sink to drain the packet.

I shrugged in answer; though he didn't see it, I knew he could hear it in the pregnant silence. He nodded in understanding. "Well I have made your favourite meal, tofu and broccoli stir-fry," I looked at him, knowing full well what he was doing, and loving him for it.

I excused myself to go and change after a comfortable silence in which I helped the preparation for dinner. I sprinted the stairs up to my room, closing the door and locking it against the trio, I knew to be home.

Resting my head against the cool wood, I tried to calm my racing heart knowing the panic was doing nothing for my psyche. After a good 10 minutes, I had managed to pull myself from the brink of another panic attack. I whirled round my room choosing clothing I knew hid my body before coming to a halt at the bathroom door.

I knew what my body yearned for within that burning room. I knew it would calm the fluttering beating of my panicked heart, I knew that with it's cold hear pressed against my flesh I would be safe. I could smile wider; I could quell the shaking of my limbs.

However, I also knew if I let it rest upon my over-heated skin I would have to let my control slip. Without thinking of the consequences I ran in to the room, squatted next to the toilet and reached round the back of the cool porcelain feeling for the raised edge of my desire.

When my fingers closed upon the cool grip I took a few calming breathes before pulling it from its hiding place and slipping it into the waistband of my pants. Standing I made my way from the room and unlocked the door, quietly peeking my head around it before tiptoeing down the stairs.

Just as my foot reached the carpeted floor, I heard Renee call us in for dinner. Keeping my head down I made my way into the dining room and sat in the same place I had sat in since arriving here.

The table was laid out with a variety of bowls but my stir-fry was placed next to my plate in a specialised bowl. I think it was more for my benefit than to stop anyone from eating it, as I knew the three whores wouldn't go near anything I touched with a 10-foot pole. Not that I can't say the same for them.

Everyone filed in and took their places, I kept my eyes downcast not wanting to see the three glares that I knew were focused on me. I heard Carmen clear his throat and lifted my gaze to his; he smiled encouragingly and spread his arms in the gesture used to tell us to eat.

The Denali's were one of the only families I knew that didn't say grace before each meal because they weren't religious. Renee had been through some phases before but never settled on anything for longer than a week and Carmen used to be Christian but was now an atheist. The reason for this change I was unsure of, but I knew it was one that he had thought over many times as he was never one to make rash decisions.

We began serving ourselves, I just stuck with the plate at my side, giving myself a medium sized portion that I knew I would never be able to finish, but the look on Renee's face when she saw it was enough to make me try.

I knew she wasn't blind, she could see my gaunt face, the baggy clothes and the decreased food portions. But bless her she never said anything. Though many would see that as a sort of neglect I knew it was because she knew me. She knew that if she asked me to eat for her I would, because I hated letting people down, because I just wanted her, anyone, to accept me.

But she also knew that it would make me worse, it would make me unhappy, it would make me loathe myself more, there would be more scars. So she looked after me, she made sure I was taking in enough vitamins, she made sure I was never dehydrated and the house was never empty of fruits. She made sure I was as close to ok as I could be in her house. I admired and respected her for it.

When dinner was over we each went off to our respected rooms. I went up into my bedroom, hoping against hope that they wouldn't bother me tonight. But knowing it was in vain.

It was as I was making my bed for the fourth time that I heard the commotion outside my bedroom door. Closing my eyes, I resigned myself to the fact that I couldn't get out of this one. I quickly mulled over the idea that I could lock myself in the bathroom, but that would only make things worse for me.

Tanya spilled into my room first, eyes immediately zoning in on my small frame, she stormed towards me and I saw the sadistic anger flash behind her steely gaze. It reminded me of _her_ gaze, of her smile when I cried out in pain.

Stepping forward to meet the devil in front of me, I reinforced my insides with the steel of my past. I would not break for them tonight. I would not spill my precious gold for them and I would not let my bones snap under the weight of their hatred. Tonight I would take their beating without a word or a whimper, I would hold it in me until they left and I could take my precious friend from my waistband and hold it to my flesh. Then I would let my golden liquid cascade to the floor in perfect absolution.

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><p>Thank you everyone who reads, muffins and computer fives to those who review :)<p>

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Mwah.x


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